


The Only Thing I Care About

by mattzerella_sticks



Series: Season 14 Inspired [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bobby Singer Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Breakfast, Caring Castiel, Caring Dean Winchester, Communication, Cute, Cute Castiel, Cute Dean Winchester, Dates, Diners, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Everyone Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Everyone is overly invested in Dean and Castiel's relationship and it gives Dean hives, Family Dinners, Heavy Petting, Internal Conflict, Lack of Communication, Love Confessions, M/M, Mary Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Notes, Pie, Post-Season/Series 14, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Self-Doubt, Sharing a Bed, Supportive Sam Winchester, Sweet Castiel, Sweet Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sweet Dean Winchester, Talks of sex, Uncomfortable Castiel (Supernatural), Uncomfortable Dean Winchester, hunts, sharing food
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 21:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16669015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattzerella_sticks/pseuds/mattzerella_sticks
Summary: Dean and Cas thought they faced their toughest hurdle once they overcame their fears and confessed their feelings. What they didn't realize was that love is an uphill battle, and it isn't easy. But you can make it easy. If only well-meaning family didn't get in the way...





	The Only Thing I Care About

**Author's Note:**

> So after going through my past fics I noticed I've written a LOT of Dean/Cas 'getting together' fics, but not many of where they are actually together. And if they are, it's not that textual.
> 
> Then I had an idea where I would do an established relationship, but coming at it from a different angle. A twist where the problem Dean and Cas have to deal with is hyper-fixated obsession and well-meaning mistakes. Huge thanks to Crazy Ex-Girlfriend's "The Group Mind Has Decided You're In Love"!
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the fic!

            Diner food is always a gamble. Like playing with a roulette wheel, every item on the menu a number on the wheel. Sometimes you’re lucky. You play it safe, bet on red, and while it’s not a huge payoff you walk away satisfied. Other times it’s a crapshoot. Quite literally a _crapshoot_ , because the wheel lands on black and an hour into driving you’re pulling over for the nearest bathroom. But then there’s the jackpot. When you take the risk and put it all on a single space. The wheel spins, and everything falls into place. Your server brings it over hot, they just re-stocked, and the cook washes their hands.

            Dean hit it today, in some Podunk rest stop off a highway in Idaho.

            “ _Mmmhh_.” He hums around the last bite of his burger, savoring the taste for as long as he can. Dean chews slowly, lost in the flavor of meat and spices he never thought a diner would know about. Finally swallowing, he sinks into his seat, head plopping onto Cas’s shoulder. “ _Babe_ ,” he sighs, “That was fantastic. I think it was somehow better than sex? I’m not sure…”

            Cas huffs. “Trust me, it’s not. I know what you’re like when you _really_ enjoy something, and you’ve never sounded like _that_ in our bedroom.”

            Dean laughs, hiding his grin in Cas’s shoulder. He feels Cas’s hand search for his under the table, and gladly threads their fingers together. ‘ _Could this get any better…_ ’

            Apparently Dean let his chips ride, and he’s cashing in on _two_ lucky spins. The waitress comes by, carrying a plate of warm, cherry pie topped with a scoop of vanilla. She places it in front of Dean, grabbing the other plates. “Just let me know when you’re ready for the check – no rush!” He barely waits for her to leave before digging into the dessert.

            He has a bite halfway to his lips before he feels a familiar burn on the side of his face. Dean turns, catching Cas staring at him in his special way.

            After spending a little over a decade with his angel, he’s been able to categorize all the little quirks of his. How his fingers tap on any surface he can find when he’s restless and impatient, a feat he claims is impossible since ‘ _time means nothing to angels blah blah blah_ ’. Or the little half-smirk he has when Dean’s left speechless from his smart remarks. This one, however, is near and dear to his heart. It’s how his eyes shine and sparkle, as if his grace fights to break free, when watching something he loves. Took a long while for Dean to understand what Cas meant, whenever he stared at him like that. And even longer to _accept_ it. Now, he welcomes its scorch.

            Dean glances at his fork, an idea popping into mind. He switches course, driving the flaky piece of pie over towards Cas’s mouth. “Open up, babe.” Cas rolls his eyes, dodging his attempt. “Come on,” Dean whines, trying and failing to get close to Cas’s lips, “It’s gonna _fall._ ” The gooey filling barely clings to prongs the longer they play this game.

            “Then _you_ eat it Dean,” Cas says, “You know I’m not going to enjoy it, the taste –“

            “Yeah, yeah I know,” Dean sighs, “Components and atoms and junk…” He takes the bite, stuffing his cheeks with more of the treat. There’s a little bit of cherry filling still on his lips as he swallows. “Although, it doesn’t explain how you can enjoy the way _I_ taste.”

            Cas chuckles. He reaches for Dean’s chin with his other hand, cupping it gently. “Because deep down you’re _sweet_.” Then he kisses Dean, chastely, enough to wipe the cherry from his lips. Cas pulls back, Dean’s eyes following him. He licks at his own lips, and smiles. “ _Very_ sweet.”

            “…Okay, somehow this is _too_ cute.”

            Dean stiffens, sliding his gaze across the table towards Sam. He almost forgot his brother was eating with them – _almost_. ‘ _Knew it was too good to be true_.’ With the moment shattered and mood ruined, Dean rights himself in the booth, leaving an ample amount of space between him and Cas. Letting go of his angel’s hand should have been tough, but Sam’s sappy grin trained on them made it easier. ‘ _He just had to say **something**_.’ His fork scratches against his plate as he stabbed at his next bite.

            Dean and Cas’s relationship was a long time coming: a culmination of years’ worth of moments and gestures and looks and _almosts_. Of getting lost and being found again and again. Letting go of the past and learning to trust, not only each other but in the possibility of happiness. It’s surprising, how they finally stepped off the ledge together and into the unknown. He always imagined something grand: a passionate kiss in the heat of battle, or one of them near-death yet again, confessing because in the next breath they might have lost their chance _forever_ this time. A fitting supernova where their overstuffed affection would combust in one glorious moment, only to fade in the next second – brilliant, beautiful, and never meant to last.

            Except Dean was wrong, and he has never been so thankful. On an ordinary morning, Cas stepped into the kitchen to find him at the stove. Dean was in his favorite robe, tied over his t-shirt and boxers – a compromise now that the Bunker reached maximum capacity. He was fixing eggs for him and Sam, the other man still unconscious. They got in only a few hours ago, and he needed the sleep. Dean only needed a few hours, and was restless, searching, reaching _out_. Cas glided over to him, pressing his chest against his back, and hooking his jaw around his shoulder. He taught him how to scramble, sharing his tools with Cas, and guiding him with gentle touches, hands hovering over hands.

            “What made you do that?” Dean asked much later, when the eggs had gone cold, and they were entangled under his sheets.

            His angel shrugged. “I missed you. Seeing you there, cooking I… it was so _normal_. I convinced myself it would be easy to just…” Dean kissed him, then, smiling.

            “This always was, Cas,” he chuckled, “We were just too damned _stubborn_ to realize.”

            It wasn’t like Dean imagined, not at all. In a way it _was_ an ending: to sleeping alone, to ‘Unattached Drifter’s Christmas’, to suffering in silence, and to wondering what Cas’s lips tastes like. But it was also a beginning. They turned onto a new freeway in their lives, filled with dates and special moments and fights and tears and _love_.

            Together they _purred_ like Baby’s engine on a fine stretch of road. The vibrations from their happiness keeps the motor running, accelerating faster and faster until they’re fifty miles over the speed limit and still never closer to their destination. They might hit a few bumps or skid from time to time, but they don’t let it stop them.

            The only thing that’s come close has been the family-sized pothole they keep stumbling over.

            Dean loves his family. And as its definition has expanded over the years, the feeling has never faded. It’s only gotten stronger.

            So doing anything with Cas that _suggested_ they entered into a new stage in their lives, in his family’s presence, was _terrifying_. He was trained in what-ifs and worst-case scenarios. No matter how he tried rationalizing the situation, his mind would leapfrog back to the darker parts. Where it came up with possibilities more horrible than the last, punishment for _trying_ to see any hope to the situation. The gruff voice in his head that said “ _They won’t accept you_ ,” or “ _They won’t believe you, they’ll laugh,_ ” and terrifyingly, “ _I didn’t raise you to turn out like **this**_ ”.

            Cas helped him tune out those dark thoughts, enough so he could casually walk through the main room holding his hand. They were heading out on a hunt, a simple trek to Dean’s car they’ve made many times before. Except this one was infinitely more different than all of those.

            For one, he noted all the looks from the other hunters as they wound through the crowd. It was easy to go unnoticed in the shuffle of working hunters, too busy with weapons maintenance or research. But a simple gesture cast a blazing searchlight onto them; intensifying the more people saw them and their _hands_. Dean was a sweaty mess by the time Sam looked over.

            He and Mary were in the middle of a discussion, a large book open between them. It was forgotten the moment they passed. Dean thought maybe it was nothing, that they hadn’t seen anything. But his brother’s bulging eyes and gawking mouth told a different story. ‘ _Might as well get this over with_.’ He paused, Cas bumping into him at the abrupt stop.

            For a while nothing was said. All possibilities existed, and the enormous range nearly had him doubling over in panic. But then Mary nudged Sam out of his stupor. “So Dean… Cas,” she said, “going somewhere?”

            “Possible werewolf case in Michigan,” he told them, “gonna check it out.”

            “Undercover?” Sam asked. His gaze locked in tight on their hands.

            Dean huffed. “No, this isn’t… isn’t for a case.” He sweltered, could feel a drop works its way down from his forehead. His skin was bright and red, as if he exfoliated with poison ivy before leaving his room. “Thinkin’ bout maybe going fishing, too. If it’s nothin’ or… _after_.”

            Sam tore his eyes away, then, and looked up. His features softened, as he watched Dean. “ _Sure_ ,” he said, “yeah, you can – you two can do that. We’re not gonna be mad that you’re… _fishing_.” Dean grimaced, Sam plodding along with the grace of a charging moose. But his heart was in the right place, as was his mom’s and _everyone_ else’s. For when they came back, it seemed like they were all thrilled to see them together. Always asking how they felt, talking to one other about their relationship, and watching them the way Sam is now, like Dean and Cas were the sun and moon, respectively; two celestial bodies circling each other, to _their_ amazement and wonder.

            That’s when he should have seen it coming. His fears of nobody accepting him or _wanting_ him were not what he should have been worrying about. What Dean _should_ have asked himself was, ‘ _What if they were **too** happy for me?_’

            He can’t handle it.

            Navigating his prior relationships was now a challenge. He wasn’t Dean anymore. Apparently, he was just one half of _Dean & Cas_. The joy of having his feelings validated and recognized by his family couldn’t overpower the frustration of watching everyone he knew treat him differently. As if everything he was didn’t matter now that he and Cas were together.

            But he didn’t realize this in time. Dean misread earlier signs, smiling through his nerves and tense muscles because ‘ _it could be worse_ ’. And only when he did realize it was far too late, and their love weighed down on his shoulders.

            Like with Mary. She’s only been alive for a few years – and half that time was spent in another universe. He’d have totally understood if she couldn’t handle her son dating another man. It’s not like it was _common_ in Kansas back then. Dean was willing to work with her, easing the relationship and showing that Dean was the same, has always been the same, and nothing will ever change that.

            Mary deserved more credit than he gave her. She didn’t bat an eye when they walked in. And when he returned, Mary sat with him as he talked her through his and Cas’s timeline: their ups and their downs, falling in love and where they’d go from there. She wept, hugging Dean until there was no air left in his lungs. After their extreme display of emotions, he figured that’d be it.

            But she kept pushing past those expectations. Mary started third wheeling whenever Dean and Cas were in the Bunker. She’d sit with them, catch up on what she missed coo every time they brushed fingers. One time Mary walked in after some serious petting, and all she did was cluck her tongue before smoothing out Dean’s hair and fixing Cas’s collar.

            “I think it would be adorable,” she said one time, after bringing up the idea of a double-date, “You and Cas… me and Bobby… we could check out this new barbeque place that opened up right in town – what do you say?” Dean didn’t take the bait, focusing his attention on cleaning his gun.

            Cas spoke for the both of them. “I’m not sure, Mary, you know I don’t eat…”

            “We don’t mind, do we Bobby?” The other hunter spluttered on his beer, surprised. He shook his head, barely making eye contact with them as he ducked deeper into his book.

            Bobby didn’t know how to speak to them. “I don’t think anything wrong of it,” he said one night, over beers when neither could sleep, “Happy for you two, really. I’m just… not good with the feelings crap and _words_. A surly old bastard, s’what I am.” Dean couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Bobby let him alone after that, shuffling back towards his room. ‘ _I’m not good at that stuff either_ ,’ he thought, ‘ _Why I liked hanging around you…_ ’

            Mary managed to wrangle them all in the end. And while the food was good, Dean would never want a repeat. “I’m here with my son and his _boyfriend_ ,” she had introduced them to their waitress, “Aren’t they just the sweetest?” He had never skipped dessert _willingly_ until then.

            But Mary had an easy excuse of motherly affection to fall back on, so he couldn’t fully blame her. The others, however, didn’t have any sort of reason for the way they’ve been acting.

            Like Jack, who freaked him out a few weeks ago. They were in his Dean Cave, relaxing, half-watching a movie. Cas was complaining about the chairs – like always – saying he was uncomfortable sitting on Dean’s lap all the time. “I thought you didn’t get _uncomfortable_? Angel mojo and all…” he said, his hand heavy on Cas’s hip. Thumb stroking up and under his shirt, teasing at the waistband of his pants.

            Cas smirked. “And I thought you preferred to sit on _my_ lap?” He shifted, then, brushing up against his crotch, legs bracketing legs. Dean bit back a groan, fingers finally dipping beneath and pressing against warm skin. Their faces were inches apart, with foreheads touching.

            “You know,” he whispered, “I could show you just why I like it…” His other hand drifted up to cup Cas’s ass, kneading the area.

            “Please do…” Cas leaned in, placing a feather-light kiss to the side of Dean’s mouth before ducking down for a headier one. His hands tangled within Dean’s hair, tugging at the short, sandy strands. He scratched him at one point, and Dean keened into his mouth until he did it again. “You like that?” he panted, “Of course you do, _cowboy_.”

            Dean chuckles. “Cowboy? You’re riding _me_ Cas.”

            “Then giddy up.”

            He grinned, pushing Cas even harder against him. Dean bucked when Cas slid a hand down over his chest, tweaking a nipple. “Just like that…” he nipped at his angel’s chin, dragging his lips down Cas’s neck. “Oh, _babe…_ ” Cas stuttered a gasp as Dean bit in a mark.

            “ _Dean_ …”

            He mouthed around his Adam’s apple, “Yes Cas?”

            “Dean… DeanDeanDeanDeanDean,” Cas chanted his name like a prayer the longer he kept at it, tearing at his necktie, unbuttoning his shirt to start in on his collarbone.

            “ _Cas_ ,” he groaned, sucking at the freed skin. Dean felt him stiffen underhand. “Yeah, it’s good, huh?”

            “Dean –“

            “Say my name again, babe –“

            “No, _Dean_.” Cas pulled back, flushed, staring behind him, “ _Jack_ –“

            He craned his neck over the chair, catching the kid in the doorframe. Dean didn’t know how long he’d been there. Jack braced against the doorframe, and from his slacked jaw and tilted head, it was clear he saw enough to understand what they were doing.

            “Jack,” Cas climbed off of Dean, re-buttoning his shirt, “Jack, what were you doing?”

            He snapped out of his trance. Jack looked to Cas, then to Dean, back at Cas, and finally down at his shoes. “I was only passing by,” he said, “I heard noises and… was curious –“

            “Okay, I don’t want to hear anymore,” Dean said, standing as well.

            Cas crossed his arms. “Why didn’t you leave when you realized what we were doing?”

            “I… I don’t really understand any of this stuff,” Jack scuffed his shoe, “And Sam has said that examples hold an extraordinary amount of knowledge.”

            Dean’s face flushed, skin crawling at Jack’s explanation. “Examples? _Plural_? Have you – have you seen us do stuff like that _before_?” He barely saw past the angry blur of his vision. Cas and him almost never got any private time in the Bunker, and if it had been spoiled by a kid going through late-in-life puberty… ‘ _He’s so **grounded**!_’

            “No, no! This was the first time I saw either of you do anything so… _advanced_.” Jack stepped into the room then, “I’ll admit to observing you, sometimes, around the Bunker. It’s just you two seem to have a deep knowledge of love and relationships… logically, I’d get the most information from you.”

            Cas sighed. “Jack, _spying_ on your family isn’t right. _Especially_ when in such… _compromising_ positions.” He walked over to Jack, though, laying a hand on his shoulder. “If you were so curious, why didn’t you come to us?”

            “Because interfering would only disrupt your behaviors,” Jack said, “and then I wouldn’t get any real insight –“

            “That doesn’t matter, we’d _rather_ you come to us from now on with your questions.” Cas turned back to Dean, “Isn’t that right?”

            Dean had two options. He could tell the truth, turn Jack away and face Cas in an argument that would lead to three days of cold silence and rough sleep. Or Dean, as he was wont to do, could swallow his objections like a large pill for the sake of others.

            He choked around the words. “Sure…” Dean herded him out of the room after that. “Except any questions about what you just saw. _That_ you can learn from the Internet like all the other kids your age.” He slammed the door, rounding on Cas. “I can’t believe that just happened.”

            Cas shrugged. “He has a thirst for knowledge. A _yearning_ to understanding…”

            “Yeah, well he can do that without being a Peeping Tom,” Dean huffed, “We’re gonna have to give him _the_ _talk_ , aren’t we?”

            “I’d rather him hear it from us than a porn, Dean.”

            He rolled his eyes. ‘ _Porn taught us about all that and we turned out fine_.” Dean didn’t want to fight, though. He walked back over to the chair, tracing his hand over the back. “So,” he said, “do you want to pick back up where we…?”

            “Maybe not,” Cas said, “I don’t think I can look at your chair without thinking of Jack watching us. We may never do anything like that _ever_ again in this room.”

            Dean squinted at him. “You just want to get a couch.”

            “That may be, but,” Cas smirked, making his exit, “are you willing to risk it?”

            The new couch was comfortable, and long enough for him to stretch across without having his feet hand off the armrest. But they didn’t get to enjoy it in their special way as often as they did his chair. Jack took Cas’s offer like a thirsting man given water. It seemed like around every corner he was waiting for one or both of them. Sometimes he’d squeeze in, cutting their moment off at the stem before it had any time to truly blossom.

            Although Dean couldn’t lay fault solely on Jack’s doorstep, as finding peace and quiet and a moment to think within the Bunker was hard to do. With hunters packed in on each other, buzzing around, always searching for the next thing to take down: you had to learn to live with little privacy. Dean thought he and Sam had paid their dues hopping from motel to motel, and Henry’s final gift to them was somewhere they could build a home. He didn’t think they’d open a motel of their own.

            And hunters are notorious gossips. Monsters may get angelic upgrades and there might be a countless number of universes existing alongside theirs, but Dean knew this would never change. From the early days of joining John in a Roadhouse, looking for a hunt to now living in a hunter’s apartment complex, countless lore at their beck and all – the only information that _mattered_ was exchanged from one person to another.

            Dean found his name passed back and forth a lot in the Bunker after he and Cas got together. “Did you see how close they were in the library” this or “He took a nap on his shoulder” that. He shut down for a while after hearing one of the hunters describe his and Cas’s ‘friendly’ sparring in great detail – using words like _steamy_ and _manhood_. He nearly begged his angel to scramble his brain, wanting to forget they’ve become their comrades ’50 Shades’.

            The whispers were getting to be too much for him. The final domino teetering over the edge collapsed a while back, in the kitchen. Dean needed to expel some restless energy, and with Cas sore over a little discussion they had, he turned towards another favorite activity – cooking. He never made it past the door.

            “I just can’t stand to see them fighting,” Maggie was talking to three other hunters; all huddled together like thieves, sharing their plans. “Seriously, why can’t they make up already? They’re such the perfect couple, their love is so important to us!”

            “Well first Dean has to apologize,” Martin, a hunter ten years Maggie’s senior, scoffed, “The only reason they’re going at it is because of him. Reckless, tossing himself in front of that vamp; an angel like Cas don’t need someone protecting him!”

            Jules whacked him on his shoulder. “It’s sweet what he did! Only somebody in love would throw themselves at danger without a thought. Cas has to see it came from a place of caring –“

            “But he’s always doing it,” Spencer, the last one of their cabal, chimed in. “I swear they’ve had this fight five times already. Like, can you just move on? It’s getting _boring_ …” Dean didn’t hear what they said next, the humming in his ears overpowering everything. He stumbled away from the door, reeling from their words, only coming to when Cas wound his arms around him. They were in their room. “I thought you were mad?”

            “I could sense your longing,” Cas said, “No matter my opinions, I would never turn you away.” Dean clung tight, even when it made lying in bed awkward – he wouldn’t let go of Cas’s trench coat. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

            He shook his head, rubbing it against Cas’s stubble. “Just want you here with me.” They stayed like that for a while, with Dean going over and over the other’s words. ‘ ** _Perfect_** _**couple**_ ,’ he thought, ‘ _Is that what they think of us? Watching us, judging – boring? What do they expect us to do, put on a show? Find ways to make our lives more interesting for them?_ ’

            Dean didn’t like this attention. Their relationship was never supposed to be entertainment for people he barely knew, who had little to no stake in how well it went. His mind stuttered after that, like it was stuck on a backed-up freeway. He hesitated too much; missed chances he promised to take now that they were a couple. Every time they passed through the safety of their room, Dean felt he was on strings. And he fought the tug, even as it led him towards what he wanted most.

            He thought maybe spending less time in the Bunker would help things. And while sometimes it did, Dean still continued to spiral. He couldn’t escape those knowing looks and watchful eyes. He was just as vulnerable outside the Bunker walls.

            They were visiting Jody and the girls, a pit stop between hunts. It had been going well, having found the djinn two days earlier than they thought. Since they were already ahead of schedule, they decided to take some free time. Dean led Cas through a romantic evening of Sonic’s, drive-in theaters, and stargazing. They didn’t make it back to their motel, falling asleep on a blanket in an empty field a foot away from Baby. Cas chose the next outing.

            “I think we should visit the girls,” he said, packing Dean’s bag. His own was already done, waiting by the door. Dean watched him, picking up his own clothes from where his angel tossed them. When they made it back to their room, Cas had wanted to thank him for the amazing night. “We’re already in Wyoming, Sioux Falls shouldn’t be that far away – especially with how you drive.”

            “I thought you liked the way I drive?”

            Cas zipped up Dean’s bag, smiling. “I do.” He handed it to him, placing a small kiss on his cheek. “Now get dressed. I’ll be waiting in the car.” Dean almost tripped over himself in his haste.

            He called Jody while Dean drove. Cas put them on speaker, and Dean listened as they spoke. She was ecstatic to hear they were dropping by. “It’ll be packed,” she warned, “Donna’s here, too. And with you coming I can finally convince Claire to eat at the dining room table.”

            “It’ll be great to see all of you,” Cas said, ending the call. They passed their time in comfortable silence, Cas fiddling with the knob from time to time as Dean pressed down hard on the gas pedal. They made it to Jody’s just as the sun was punching in its card for the day. The sky was a beautiful pallet of color; the blues, oranges, and purples mixed in a hazy swirl as if Chuck dropped his writer’s pen and picked up a paintbrush.

            Donna greeted them first. “Well don’t you two look swell,” she said, hugging them, “Alex is out getting the food now, so we’re just waiting on her. Come on in!”

            Jody stood, welcoming them, taking their bags. “You can take Claire’s room for the night,” she said, “since _apparently_ the only room she needs is the basement.”

            Claire sneered. “I didn’t mean it like _that_.”

            “Jody, that’s nice of you but…” Cas looked between the pair, “we don’t mind taking the couch –“

            “Nonsense,” Jody shrugged him off, “Claire’s bed is big enough to fit you both. I got no problem letting you sleep together.” Dean raised a brow, unsure of how to respond to that. He didn’t have to though, as Alex walked in with bags of Chinese food draped across her arms. Donna shepherded them all in to the dining room while Patience and Claire passed out forks and plates. It was quiet as they gathered their food, Cas helping Dean with his since he won’t be eating. The conversation picked back up once they started.

            “So, Dean, Cas,” Donna started, “How have things been? I’m gonna be honest and say I was surprised when Jody said you two were dropping by.”

            Dean scarfed down his rice. “Really? Why?”

            “Figured you two wouldn’t want to come up for air for some time,” she said, winking, “Too busy canoodling, if you know what I mean.” Donna chuckled, as did the others. Dean tried to smile, but couldn’t muster up the strength.

            “Oh, Donna,” Jody said, nudging her, “Maybe in the beginning but they’re probably past the honeymoon stage. Of course they’d want to see other people by now.” He lost his appetite around then, the food turning to sand in his mouth. But he didn’t stop eating, a stuffed mouth a perfect excuse to keep from talking. Cas was able to handle the conversation perfectly fine without him.

            “…the djinn was smart, actually,” he told them all, “feeding off of coma patients, collecting their blood. She ran into a problem, however, when she kept a small boy under who was there for a tonsillectomy. There was a mix-up in the paperwork, and his parents stirred up quite a fuss. We did a little digging and put an end to her scheme early, thankfully.”

            “Must have been a big celebration, then” Claire said, fork scratching against her near empty plate, pushing the broccoli around.

            Cas looked to her. “What do you mean?”

            She jerked her head over at Dean, and pointed at her neck. Dean fought back a blush. He didn’t think it was noticeable, hidden by his collar. But Jody’s house was warm, and he undid the top buttons. “Claire –“

            “It’s cool,” she said, “as long as you don’t do it in my room. I know it’ll be _hard_ for you guys, just remember I have to sleep there at some point.”

            Jody sighed. “I wouldn’t believe her, she’s already used to passing out in front of the monitors.”

            “That wasn’t my fault, I was tired!”

            “If you were tired you could have gone up to bed!” Claire and Jody fell back into bickering, the others ignoring them. Dean shifted uncomfortable under Claire’s scrutiny. ‘ _We don’t give off that kind of vibe, do we?_ ’ he asked himself, ‘ _I mean, some days we’re a bit more **active** than normal… and who cares if we enjoy spending time with each other? People have been pretty annoying lately…_’

            Alex turned to him, breaking him from his thoughts. “So,” she said, “are you still here tomorrow?”

            Dean shrugged. “Depends on if we hear anything from Sam.”

            “Because if you are,” she continued, “you might want to go check out this really cool thing happening in town. It’s kind of like a flea market, but they’re doing some sort of auction? One of the doctors at the hospital, she’s a lesbian, has been organizing it, and I figured you two might find it interesting.”

            “Alex,” Patience said from across the table, “I’m sure they had other ideas in mind.” She looked at both of them, smiling pityingly, “Sorry, if you were kind of offended or – I mean, not to _assume_ because that would be weird, right? It’s just –“

            “Sounds nice,” Dean said, gruffly, cutting her off, “I mean, m’used to hand-me-down stuff. Could teach this one how to haggle finally?” He nudged Cas, hoping for a response.

            “Right,” he said, “You keep saying how I need to learn. Although I, for one, believe it only antagonizes the seller. If they set a price then their goods must be worth it.”

            Dean would kiss him if it wouldn’t derail the evening into a contest, where each of the women around them would do their best to hide their smirks and look at one another ‘ _knowingly’_. “They _over_ -price their stuff, Cas. Tryna squeeze out a profit on their ol’ junk because sentimental value or whatever…”

            Dinner wrapped up soon after that, and Dean and Cas decided to turn in for the night. Not before they were warned against any activities they are _known_ to do. “It’s easy to hear what the person in the next room is doing,” Jody explained, handing Cas an extra blanket as Dean dug out their pajamas. “So if you could, just for tonight? It’d be real kind of you.”

            Cas smiled. “We had no intention of doing anything like that under your roof, Jody.”

            “I figured,” she told them, punching Cas’s shoulder, “But what kind of parent would I be if I didn’t make sure. Have a good night you, two.” Jody headed back down the stairs.

            The only other guest to visit them before sleep was Patience. Dean answered the door, “Yeah?”

            She wrung her hands, unable to meet his eyes. “Hey,” she said, “are you guys okay? I mean… I know it might not seem like it because of how we acted but we’re really supportive of… like, Claire is gay, too, so –“

            “Patience,” Dean said, “we know.”

            “You do?” she asked, “Good, good.” Patience sighed out her stress, standing taller. “Because I didn’t want you to think that I – that _we_ –“

            “Never,” Dean assured her, “Now get to bed. I don’t want Jody grounding me for keeping you up.” She offered him a smile before leaving, and Dean returned to bed. Although it wasn’t a restful sleep, having tossed throughout the night.

            “Are you sure there’s nothing bothering you?” Cas asked him again, after he got back from the shower.

            “Yeah,” Dean lied, “not used to Claire’s mattress, s’all. _Stiff_.” He looked like he wanted to press the issue, but decided against it. He kissed Dean softly before leaving. Dean pouted, somewhat hoping Cas would push. But he’d gotten what he wanted, but didn’t know what to do next. So he drifted for the rest of the day, through breakfast and the market, until they were saying their goodbyes. Cas brought him back with a hand over his on the gear. They kept it like that the entire ride back home.

            Their relationship, what started out as an intricate dance where they’d slowly weave around each other, never touching, became more intricate as it grew. And when it finally happened, when they met and started stepping in time, Dean thought they’d keep dancing. Perfecting their rhythm in time to the music of their hearts as it all became second nature. But then he started tripping over his own feet. He was scared, that they’d devolve to swaying like children, with too much space between them. And there might not be a way to stop it.

            His self-consciousness spread, infecting any moment between him and Cas where another person was involved. Even on hunts he couldn’t help but be hyper-aware. He’d overthink and keep his distance. Rowena called him out on it, on a hunt a few weeks ago. They asked her to come in and fix up a location spell that would overpower one they cast to hide themselves. She sent Cas out to fetch a few ingredients, leaving them lone.

            Rowena pounced once Cas closed the door. “So, trouble in paradise, dearie?”

            Dean stopped counting his bullets, frowning up at her. “No?”

            “Ya sure…”

            “Why’re you asking?” he scoffed, somewhat frightened at her accusation. ‘ _Sure, Cas might have been a little eager to go shopping, but it wasn’t because of me… **right**?_’ “If you’re trying to steal him, he’s not into witches.”

            “Oh no, Dean, I would never,” she said, “Did not cross my mind! From the moment he and I met I could tell there was someone special he had an eye for… I mean, you know whom I’m talking about. Although…”

            He sighed. ‘ _It’s definitely a trap, but… I need to know…_ ’ “Although, what?”

            “You two certainly don’t act very couple-y,” she told him, “I remember back when you still had your heads up your arses, those boys had more love for each other than what I’m seeing.”

            Dean snarled, furious at her suggestion. _‘Who does she think she is? Cas and I aren’t in love? Because, what – we’re not giving each other goo-goo eyes? Not holding hands long enough, saying I love you after every breath? That we’re not **making** **out** in front of her? Does everybody think that’s all we do…?_’

            She continued. “I mean it’s understandable. Sometimes we imagine things, and they don’t match up. There’s no shame in that, dearie. No one ever wants to think about if they’re _wrong_.”

            Dean fought the urge to load his bullets. His hand twitched on the gun before he slammed it on the desk. He rounded on her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. So if the next thing out of your mouth isn’t in Latin, then I don’t want to hear it. You do the spell then you get the hell out of here!” He turned from her, then, trying to calm the roaring storm inside him. Dean tuned her out then, not wanting to waste his time.

            Or give her any sense that she struck a poorly concealed wound. Rowena was not fully wrong. Dean _was_ acting differently around Cas more and more often. Earlier, after interviewing one of the victims, his angel tried to hold his hand on the small trek from the house to Baby. But there was a neighbor out watering her plants, and Dean caught her watching them, so he slipped his hand away and sped up towards the car.

            “I don’t get why you’re acting like this?” Cas asked him, back in the motel room, “We’ve done stuff like that countless times before –“

            Dean sighed. “I know, but maybe – maybe we try and keep the cover up _until_ we’re out of sight? Believability and… all that.” He sounded so weak in the moment; Cas towered over him, pacing the room. He hunched into himself on their bed. His angel wanted to dig deeper, but at that point Rowena had arrived.

            He made it up to Cas, later, once the witches were all dead and Rowena had left. Brought him to the city’s local park, where a group of musicians put on a show. Cas enjoyed live performances, having Dean organize an entire playlist around live audio for his phone. It helped that the band leaned towards rock, so they both could enjoy it. Dean struggled against every new instinct to let Cas snuggle up with him on their blanket. However, he was overwhelmed, and so he escaped as best he could. He laid his head in Cas’s lap, closing his eyes, and pretended everybody else had faded away, leaving only them.

            It wasn’t easy to forget the world, to believe that the thousand of eyes that existed weren’t following Dean at every turn. But it was just as hard to love, apparently. ‘ _I always thought this would be the easy part_ ,’ he thought one night, his back to Cas in their bed, ‘ _never figured it’d be difficult… but I should have.’_ For his angel, though, he’d face the challenge again and again.

            He just wished his family wasn’t working against him. Thinking they were doing him favors when every act of theirs hindered his relationship with Cas. Even Charlie had drawn the wrong conclusion.

            “You should _definitely_ bring Cas,” she said, barely looking away from her laptop, “I mean, relationships are a built-in buddy system.”

            Dean huffed, rolling his eyes. Cas had planned on a few days of rest at the Bunker since they were back after a month on the road. “We’ve been going on hunt after hunt,” he sighed, storing his duffel under their bed, “I want to stay home for a while. Maybe spend time with Jack, catch up on some shows.” He glanced at Dean from the corner of his eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay as well?”

            The memory of Maggie, squealing after walking in on a very chaste kiss by Baby cuts across his mind. He shuddered. “Still got a bit more energy in me,” he said, grimacing, “Maybe after this one.”

            Except Charlie wasn’t budging. He figured a hunt might be a good start to getting to know her, be her friend just like he was to their world’s Charlie. It worked for Sam, and it could do the same for him. If only she agreed to go.

            “Look, I’ve got plans this weekend in this tournament game I’ve just discovered,” Charlie told him, frowning, “Angel wars and hunting don’t leave much time for training so I need all the help I can get. Go _ask Cas_.”

            He sulked. ‘ _Why do we have to do **everything** together? We ain’t joined at the hip. Got our own lives to lead. I only asked because I wanted to spend time with **her** – I don’t need anyone to hunt with. I’m Dean Winchester._”

            Dean ended up asking Cas. “Like I said, I would prefer not to go,” he said, “But… Jack seems to have made other plans. And I _suppose_ I can put off my shows for another few days.”

            Dean swore, “After we’re done with this one, we’ll binge so much TV, they’re gonna have to peel us up from off our bed.”

            Cas smiled, rubbing gentle hands across his shoulders. “Funny,” he said, “I remember saying something similar a while back. Although… I doubt we were _watching television_.” He kissed Dean roughly, forcing a dizzying heat to rush southward in his body. Cas pulled away, playing with Dean’s collar.

            “I don’t remember,” he beamed, “Do you think we have enough time for you to jog my memory?”

            “Of course.”

            He’s never regretted sex more. ‘ _It was amazing… Cas made good on his word, I could barely move after being fucked into our mattress. But…’_ he glares at his brother, ‘ _threw us off schedule enough that **he** could join us._’

            Sam caught them en route to Baby. He spotted their bags and ran to meet them. “I’ve barely seen you,” he said, “A hunt would be the perfect chance for us to catch up.”

            Cas looked to Dean, shrugging. “It looks like I’m getting my break after all?”

            “What? No,” he said, shaking his head, “Cas, you’re coming to. Like the old days – except well, not _just_ like it because you’re together. And should we get separate rooms? Not that I wouldn’t want to share a room it’s just if you want to –“

            “Jesus, Sammy,” Dean cried, “Do you think we’d have sex in front of you?” Sam had sheepishly looked away. “We can keep it in our pants while you sleep, all right?”

            “Great! I’ll go put together my gear. Ten minutes, tops.” He bounded towards his room like a Labrador Retriever, Dean and Cas left confused in his dust.

            Cas turned to him. He tried to school his features into something less murderous, but his angel saw right through him. “Are you sure you’re okay with Sam coming along with us?” he asked, “If you would rather we leave now and call him later, I’ll do it. I’ll even be the one to dial.”

            ‘ _What did I do to deserve him?_ ’ Dean would jump into Baby without a second thought if his body would allow it. But it betrayed him, staying put as they waited for Sam to return. He did, and tossed their bags into the trunk before shoving Cas away from the backseat.

            “But Sam,” Cas said, “your legs – you always complain they cramp back there.”

            “I’ll be fine, you two take the front. It’s totally cool with me.” Sam wedged himself into the backseat, flashing them both a thumbs up from behind the window. If Dean couldn’t tell this trip was going to work his last nerve at that, it became clear as his brother’s knees kept digging into his back every time he struggled to get comfortable.

            And now, in this diner, Sam strangled that last bit of life out of his patience by bursting the bubble he, Cas, and the cherry pie created.

            He’d be angrier if it wasn’t exactly what Dean expected from him. Sam was the worst offender in making Dean uncomfortable being around Cas. “I just think he’s the best thing in your life, Dean,” he confided to him the night he returned from the werewolf case in Michigan. “I’m happy you two are finally together, really. Gives me hope.” He put so much expectation into those few words; Dean always felt he had to live up to something whenever Sam was around. It became tiresome.

            Every time they were in the same room, he could sense him watching them. Observing each kiss, judging their glances, measuring the distance between them. “Dean, you can put your arm around his, we don’t mind,” “Give him a smooch, Cas, come on,” and even “Looks like someone hasn’t gotten their special time with their boyfriend”: all served to drive him _mad_.

            So his disruption at the diner was just one more crime on the long list Dean has kept since he and Cas got together.

            Dean was pushing around the last pieces of his pie when Cas cleared his throat. “Sam, could you go pay our bill? We’ll meet you in the car after.”

            He looks between him and Dean. “…You sure?”

            “Yes,” he says, “I need to speak with your brother, _alone_.” Sam nods, glaring at Dean as he slid out. ‘ _What did you do_?’ his face seemed to say. He hoped his own expression told Sam, ‘ _It’s your fault, not mine!_ ’ Cas waited for the sound of the bell over the door before starting.

            Cas turns to him. “Dean,” he starts, “I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer it truthfully. No more dodging, no more lies… only the _truth_.” He pauses until Dean nods in understanding. “Now _what_ is going on with you?”

            He keeps playing with his food, unable to meet his angel’s eyes. The pie is paste, the cherry filling less than appetizing and crust soggy from melted ice cream. But he can’t tear his eyes away, afraid that if he looks at Cas, the words will spill out of him.

            Which is why his angel softly guides his face up to his, fingers resting gently on his chin. “Dean…” he whispers, blue eyes like stained glass locked onto his own set of shrubbery eyes. Dean, feeling awed, confesses.

            “It’s… it’s them, all of them – everyone we know,” he says, a dark void tearing at his heart, “they’re making me second-guess myself – second-guess _us_. It’s like since we started dating everyone expects me ‘n’ you to act and be people we’re not and I… I don’t know what to do.” He bites at his lip. “I probably sound ungrateful, huh? Yeah… they’re all being really nice and it’s just me…”

            Cas drags his hand up from Dean’s chin to his cheek, his thumb brushing under his eye. “No, Dean, you’re not ungrateful. This is how you feel and…” he drops his gaze, almost shamefully, “and how I do as well.”

            Dean chokes on his breath. “What?” he says, “You were… you felt the same?”

            “Every assumption, every ‘good-natured’ joke, and especially the obsession with our every move rubbed me the wrong way,” he sighs, shivering. He scoots closer to his angel, laying a warm hand on his knee.

            “Yeah,” he says, “Was like they were making our relationship more about them. Felt as though I had to please more than just you every time we were together. I couldn’t be _me_ , but I also wasn’t playing the part they wanted of me…”

            “Is this why you’ve been so distant lately?” Cas asks. Dean nods his assent. “Well then,” Cas chuckles, “once again communication has escaped us.”

            He laughs alongside him, his voice a tad wetter. “I should have told you before it got this far.”

            “Don’t Dean, please,” Cas says, hand on his chest, “the blame is on both of us. For being too stubborn, thinking we had to carry it alone when our union means unburdening our troubles, bearing witness to each other’s plights and being there to soothe the aches and pains.”

            “Babe, that was so _poetic_ and shit,” he huffed, “could you dumb it down for me?”

            “I’ll put it like this,” Cas smiles, grabbing Dean’s cheeks with both hands, “The only thing I care about is you. Other’s opinions about us are meaningless, and I hope you feel the same.”

            “I… I do.” Dean’s heart swells, like a drawn-out chord echoing in an auditorium. “They shouldn’t matter and – and I’m sorry I let it get to me. The next person to make a comment about us is gonna get punched so _hard_.”

            “Dean, please,” Cas sighs, “We’ll barely make it a mile before you and Sam are fighting.” He kisses him, breathing laughter into his mouth as well as love. “And I’m sure you can explain to everyone _without_ violence how you would like to be treated from now on?”

            He whines. “Words? Come on, Cas – I’m no good at those.”

            “Well then what do you suggest?”

            The perfect idea was waiting for a moment to show itself, flying into view on vibrant wings. Dean grinned, reaching for Cas’s hands and dragging him out of the booth. “I have a great idea. But first we’re going home – and no matter how much of a fuss Sam puts up you’re sitting in the back, okay?”

            Cas rolls his eyes. “I don’t know how I’ll survive if I’m not by your side for that long but… I’ll try.” Dean pulls him in, draping an arm over his shoulder and dropping a kiss to his head.

            ‘ _This… now this is right_.’

 

_Epilogue_

            Sam yawns, slamming on his alarm. He slowly starts, stretching his arms out while gasping out a yawn. ‘ _It’s too early…_ ’ he thinks, pushing up from his bed. They got back to the Bunker late, delayed by traffic. Sam was glad Cas took a stance on seating after the diner, knowing he’d be in more pain now if he was folded up like a taco in the Impala’s back bench.

            He wasn’t much a fan of how they ditched him, though, after parking. Spencer and Roger sidetracked him, cornering him in the library with questions about lore while they stole away somewhere. Sam hoped maybe they could continue their time together with a movie marathon or dinner.

            It seemed that he couldn’t spend time them now that they were dating. Always wrapped up in each other or locked in their room. He barely saw them in the main room. Even the Dean Cave was left to waste away. Sam knows it’s good for Dean, though. Remembered the before time – having to deal with his brother and his best friend orbiting each other, neither willing to force a collision. So now that they’re a couple, he’s been very vocal about his support. ‘ _Dean’s lucky to have a brother as great as I am,’_ Sam thinks, shuffling towards the door, ‘ _other people wouldn’t be as understanding_.’

            _Krrsh_

            He pauses, staring down at where his foot stepped on a piece of paper. Sam picks up the note, unfolding it.

 

_S a m –_

_M e  a n d  C a s  a r e_

_g o i n g  o n  a  t r i p._

_W h i l e  w e ‘ r e  g o n e,_

_G E T  A   L I F E !_

_D e a n_

 

            “The hell?” He reads it twice more, angrier each time. ‘ _A trip? Why would they tell me through a note? And what did he mean – get a life?_ ’ Sam scowls, flinging his door open, hoping that the Impala still sits in its spot. He nearly misses the second piece of paper taped to his door. Glaring, Sam tears it off, and reads.

 

_Sam,_

_I apologize for Dean, I told him to be nicer._

_Yes, we are heading out on a trip. It’s necessary,_

_both of us are suffocating here in the Bunker. If_

_we wish to keep our sanity, we need a break. It won’t_

_be long, and we’ll send you updates on where we are and_

_if we see any suspicious activity you might want to know about._

_From, Cas_

_P.S. When we return, we hope that you as well as everyone else_

_will treat us like you have before learning of our relationship. We haven’t changed._

_But all of you did._

 

            Sam’s anger cooled off, now doused by the icy shame of Cas’s note. He stood in his doorway, staring at it, replaying the last sentence over again in his mind. ‘ _Has it really been that rough_?’ He wants to deny it, to defend himself. To say he’s been treating them like he thinks they should be. ‘ _But that was the problem_ ,’ Sam realizes, ‘ _I never asked them how they wanted me to act…_ ’

            “Sam? Is everything all right?” Mary stands before him, now, concerned.

            He glances up at her, smiling. “Yeah, yeah, just – uh…” he waves the papers, “realizing some stuff.”

            “Okay…” Mary glances behind her, “I tried waking Dean and Cas but they wouldn’t answer. Do you think you could go check on them?”

            Sam chuckles, leading Mary away and towards the kitchen. “Mom, I think we have to talk about a few things…”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this, I had a fun time writing this! Let me know what you think - drop a kudos and/or a comment. I love hearing from y'all!


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